


Whenever This World Is Cruel To Me

by SunGreen70



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunGreen70/pseuds/SunGreen70
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted on LiveJournal for the Whose-a-Thon, August 2011. Prompt: Ry/Col fic set in Brit-Line era in which they get into a physical fight/scuffle with each other for a reason of the authors choice. Ends in fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whenever This World Is Cruel To Me

Colin Mochrie had fucked up big time.

As soon as the cameras stopped rolling, he fled. Away from the soundstage where he was certain that Clive, Tony, Sandi and Mike were eyeing him with pity; and Dan Patterson with self righteous scorn, since Colin had only proven himself unworthy of the chance he’d been granted.

Mostly though, he was fleeing from his best friend. He couldn’t face Ryan, after all Ryan had done to get Colin this spot on _Whose Line_. Not when Colin had completely blown it and let Ryan down - right before his eyes as Ryan had sat in the studio audience like a proud parent, expecting much more from Colin than the pathetic performance he’d just given.

“Hey, Col, wait up!”

Colin tensed. Ridiculous as it was, he quickened his pace, trying to put distance between himself and Ryan.

“Colin! Hey, Col!” Ryan’s long legs caught up to him easily enough. “Why’d you take off so fast? We’re going out for drinks.”

“No thanks,” Colin said shortly, scanning the backstage corridor. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember which dressing room he’d been using.

“What? Oh, come on! It’ll be fun.”

Suddenly, Colin was angry – at Ryan. Ryan always thought he knew what was best for Colin. He’d badgered Dan into giving him this chance, and had obviously been so annoying about it that now Dan couldn’t stand Colin. Dan had stood there in the wings while the show taped, willing Colin to fail. Meanwhile, Ryan himself had expected Colin to prove some ridiculous notion he had that Colin was anywhere near talented enough to be on the show. How the hell was Colin supposed to live up to Ryan’s impossible expectations? But he’d tried anyway, for Ryan’s sake, and in struggling to do so he’d failed – frozen like a deer in the headlights.

“No thanks, Ryan,” Colin repeated, keeping his voice low in an effort to suppress his anger. He turned a corner onto a familiar hallway. Oh yes – there was his dressing room, down at the far end. He started to stalk towards it, but Ryan caught his arm.

“Colin… what’s wrong?”

Colin was tempted to push Ryan away. His hand even went out involuntarily, but he caught himself and instead ground his knuckles between Ryan’s shoulder blades in a gesture he knew his friend hated, having grown up with four older brothers. He hoped it would be just as effective in getting rid of him.

Ryan stopped in his tracks. “Did you just give me a _noogie_?” His voice was astonished. Colin exhaled an exasperated huff of breath and walked on.

“Hey!” Now Ryan was annoyed. He caught up to Colin with one long stride and clamped a hand down on his shoulder to stop him.

Equally annoyed, Colin swatted Ryan’s hand from his shoulder. His watch band scraped across Ryan’s wrist, catching a bit of skin.

“Ow!” Ryan yelped. Colin rolled his eyes.

“Oh, stop. That didn’t hurt.”

Ryan glared at him. “It did too.”

“’It did too’? What are you, five?” Colin finally reached his dressing room. He flung the door open with more force than necessary and yanked his sweater over his head. Ugly thing. It looked more like a slipcover than an article of clothing. Like the wardrobe mistress was trying to upholster him. Not only would the television audience see him flop, they’d see him flop in a hideous sweater. Colin wadded the wretched thing into a ball and flung it at the small daybed. It missed, sliding to the floor in a heap.

“Colin, what is your problem?” Ryan stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. The words were the final straw. Ryan knew damn well what his problem was.

“Ryan – leave me _alone_!”

Grabbing the edge of the door, he gave it a shove. He expected Ryan to step back, but he was still standing there with that condescending, being-patient-with-my-best-friend look on his face, and instead of a satisfying slam, the action only produced a loud “OOF!” as the doorknob caught Ryan in the stomach. Colin winced as Ryan doubled over.

“I’m sorr-” He never finished the sentence. Furious now, Ryan lunged, tackling Colin and sending both of them sprawling. They landed half on the daybed and half on the floor. The small of Colin’s back struck one of the wooden arms on the way down. “Shit!” He pushed against Ryan’s chest to try to free himself. Ryan interpreted this as aggression and shoved back, sending Colin sliding the rest of the way to the floor with a thud. “Ow!”

“Oh, stop,” Ryan mimicked Colin’s earlier words. “That didn’t hurt.” He pinned Colin’s shoulders against the side of the mattress.

“Does _this_ hurt?” Colin brought up his knee, catching Ryan in the belly.

“Goddamn it!” Clutching his stomach, Ryan struck out blindly with a balled up fist and made contact with Colin’s chin. The force caused Colin to bite his tongue, and he tasted blood.

“OW!”

With a mighty wrench, Colin freed himself from Ryan’s grasp and shoved hard against his chest, sending Ryan sprawling on his back.

“Colin, cut it out!” Ryan shouted, as Colin put a knee on his chest and his hands on his shoulders. He quickly rolled onto his side, making Colin lose his balance. But Colin kept his grip on Ryan’s shoulders and they rolled around on the linoleum covered floor, hitting and grunting and cursing.

“Shall I go get some Jello to make this interesting?”

The sardonic voice made them pause for a brief second, glancing up to see a bespectacled, pompadour-haired man standing over them, hands on his hips. Then their eyes met again; they scowled at each other, and resumed tussling.

“Oh, for God’s sake. Knock it off!” This time the words were accompanied by a sharp tug on the back of each man’s shirt, and Ryan and Colin found themselves jerked upright, gasping for air as their collars threatened to crush their windpipes.

“What is _wrong_ with you two?” the intruder demanded. He was still clutching them both by their shirt collars, but he eased up enough to prevent them from choking. Colin stared up at him, huffing for breath.

“Who the hell are you?”

The man addressed Ryan. “Would you like to make the introductions?”

“No,” Ryan said sulkily. He refused to look at either of them.

The man rolled his eyes behind his giant glasses. “Greg Proops,” he informed Colin. “I’ve worked with your friend here a few times. And I have to tell you, there have been occasions when I wanted to deck him too, so kudos.”

Ryan jerked his head up and glared at Greg. “He started it!”

“Oh, stop it, you big baby. Both of you. I don’t know what the hell is the matter with you two, and I don’t want to know. I’m filming tomorrow, and you’re getting me all agitated! Now I need booze to calm my nerves.” With that, Greg released his grip on them and stomped off down the corridor. They could hear him muttering to himself about “improv divas” and “my psyche in a fragile state”.

Only the sounds of puffing could be heard for a few moments as Colin and Ryan sat where they had landed on the floor, avoiding each other’s eyes. Finally Colin spoke, his gaze fixed on an invisible spot on the wall.

“Who was _that_ clown?”

Ryan snorted. “He’s one of the players. He’s all right, when he’s not being an asshole.”

“Oh.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Colin saw Ryan turn his head to look at him. “Kind of like you,” Ryan added.

Colin jerked his head up, and saw a small smile on Ryan’s face. He started to scowl, then he sighed. Some of the tension drained out of him.

“Are you okay?”

Ryan shrugged. “I think you knocked one of my kidneys loose, but it’s all right. I have another one.”

Colin looked away sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Are _you_ okay?”

Colin nodded. “I bit off half my tongue, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“No,” Ryan said, putting a hand under Colin’s chin and forcing him to look up. “I mean – are you okay? About the taping?”

Colin flushed. “I really bombed,” he said despairingly.

Part of the reason Ryan was Colin’s best friend was that he never lied through his teeth to try to cheer him up. “So you had a bad taping. It happens.”

“But what a time for it to happen!” Colin ran a hand through his hair. “Dan’s never going to let me come back now.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Ryan replied. Colin looked at him sharply.

“Don’t even think about it. Whatever you did to get me on the show in the first place… don’t try it again.”

“Colin, stop being an idiot.” Ryan sounded exasperated. “I didn’t get you on the show. I got you an audition – you got _yourself_ on the show. Your audition was fucking brilliant, and you impressed the hell out of Dan. And he’ll bring you back – he may be a complete asshole, but he’s not stupid. Not when it comes to recognizing talent. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and start thinking about how you’re going to wipe the floor with everyone else next time – because there _will_ be a next time.”

Colin fell silent, taking in Ryan’s words. Now that he thought about it, his audition _had_ been pretty fucking brilliant. Maybe he really was good at this, despite today’s setback. He let out a long breath, then reached over and covered Ryan’s hand with his own for a moment, searching for the right words to express what he wanted to tell him.

Ryan either understood without Colin having to say anything, or else he just really wanted a beer. He reached over and ruffled Colin’s already disheveled hair and got to his feet, wincing a little. He extended his hand to Colin. “Come on. They’ve all gone to O’Leary’s around the corner.”

Colin let Ryan help him up, but found that walking was difficult. “Ow.”

“What?”

“Nothing. My back’s a little sore, that’s all.” He started towards the door, but stopped and rubbed his lower back. “Oh, crap…”

“Lemme see…” Ryan moved behind him and pulled up the hem of his shirt. He winced. “Geez, you’re gonna have some bruise there.”

Colin sighed. “I deserve it.”

“Come on, lie down.” Ryan steered Colin to the daybed and helped him stretch out on his stomach. Colin didn’t protest too strenuously. He was tired, and not really up to drinking for hours into the night. He pillowed his head on his arms and closed his eyes; but snapped them open again, startled, when Ryan sat alongside him. The mattress sagged beneath his weight.

“Go on with the others,” Colin said. “I’m fine.”

“Shush.” Ryan pulled Colin’s shirt up again, rolling it to just below his shoulder blades. He laid gentle hands on Colin’s back, moving slowly down his spine and applying light pressure. Colin couldn’t help letting out a small groan of pleasure as Ryan's fingers soothed the sore spots. He closed his eyes again, relaxing into Ryan’s touch; while simultaneously feeling guilty for taking his frustrations out on him.

“Why do you put up with me?” he murmured into his arms.

Ryan bent down close to Colin’s ear. To Colin’s surprise, he pressed a light kiss to his temple before he answered.

“Because I love you, you big jerk.”


End file.
